“So sever the ignorant doubt in your heart with the sword of self-knowledge, Arjuna! Observe your discipline! Arise!”
Today is the birthday of Hermann Rorschach, who created the famous inkblot Rorschach Test. As a child, Hermann was fond of making inkblot paintings; when he became an adult, he struggled to choose a career either as an artist or scientist. In a classic case of a happy occupational synthesis, his art found a home in his career as a psychiatrist.
In recent years, the Rorschach Test has been the subject of some controversy, with a number of researchers proclaiming it “pseudoscience” (especially in regards to the heavy preponderance of diagnoses of homosexuality based on what was seen in the blots).
To be sure, there is subjectivity at work in regards to the inkblot interpretations by the patients; but would there not also not be subjectivity in the interpretations by the doctors?
Who watches the watchmen, blah, blah, blah.
I don’t have a heck of a lot to say at the moment about the results of the most recent United States election, and the latest shenanigans. I’ve said that Donald Trump is the equivalent of the giant alien squid from the original Watchmen graphic novel for some time now; and I often use the pro wrestling analogy as well, with DJT in the role of “heel.” (It helps the analogy, of course, that DJT actually performed in pro wrestling).
Such designations on my part, I know, may sound to some as rather flip & trivial; I assure you, it is not so.
I just have…this nervousness that we (domestic “we,” international “we”) are not really being prepared for what the next decade will bring. Economically, technologically, geologically, meteorologically, sociologically, etc. Every “cally” you can possibly think of; not being prepared for, we are.
Do also read my “Tripping The Manson-Nixon Line” for some insights into Watergate, timelines repeating, etc.
In classic pro wrestling, you have these “storylines” that can go on…for months. Maybe even years. Rivalries. Great outrages perpetrated by the Heel. And the pressure builds with each outrage…with each sin. The Heel has to be brought down, has to be brought down, has to be brought down. The collective psychic pressure builds and builds and builds…
And the Heel never has any shame. He struts into ring. He smirks and preens as the interviewer holds the mic to his face. And he always says something nasty. How could he do that, how could he do that, how could he do that…The auditorium dissolves in “boos.” People “boo” to their TV sets at home, addressing this mindless construction of plastic and glass and circuits.
And then, usually at the key big-ticket match with the Face (hero), the Heel gets his comeuppance. And it’s like this big, primal re-enactment of a cosmic battle of Good vs. Evil. When the Heel finally gets counted out, is wiped all over the floor of the ring and is either begging for mercy or out cold…it’s like this massive collective orgasm has hit the auditorium. Because it’s not just about that one match…it’s about all that energy in the collective pressure-cooker, finally unleashed.
It’s one of the best matches people remember watching in their entire lives; it makes them forget all the injustices in their own lives…the injustice of the Machine…the persistence of the Machine…the entrenchment of the Machine…and the fact that at the end of the day, the same person signs the checks for both the Heel and the Face.
And then…it happens all over again. Good vs. Evil. Set vs. the Sun God. All over again.
Are we doomed to continually live out these patterns, these cycles?
I honestly think you can opt-out of it at some point. I honestly think you can say: “fuck it, I’m not doing this anymore.”
That’s my possibly wrongheaded intuitive conclusion for today.
Have a good Thursday.